


Make It Stop.

by kotabear24



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christianity, Homophobia, M/M, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotabear24/pseuds/kotabear24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Rise Against's <i>Make It Stop</i> (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DrwNO73GI1U) Harry and Louis are gay and Christian in a world where the two don't coexist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make It Stop.

**Author's Note:**

> This has references to suicide, but there are no descriptions of it. Please don't read if this is a problem. There is also homophobic content. Please don't read if that's a problem, as well. .xx

Louis smiled to himself and stared at his feet as he slipped his hand into Harry’s, only looking over at him just in time to catch the tail end of Harry’s cursory glance around to make sure nobody was nearby. Louis’ smile became strained.

Harry saw it, of course. Harry saw everything. “Shh,” he said immediately, knowing Louis would get upset. It was the only problem in their eleven-month relationship – that Harry wasn’t ready to be out, wasn’t nearly ready. “You _know_ how my parents are,” Harry said, looking sorrowful.

They were in a deserted alleyway, taking back roads and the long way home, to Harry’s for Sunday night dinner. Harry and Louis had been together all day since church let out, Harry’s parents smiling at Louis and Harry’s laddish friendship, horse-playing around the second they were outside the church and begging their parents to let them go down to the arcade. Louis’ mum, Jay, had accepted quickly, knowing that Louis and Harry were dating (and knowing it was a secret) and wanted some alone-time, and once Jay accepted, Harry’s mum, Anne, had given in, as well, making them promise to be home for dinner. They promised and ran off, giddy and laughing, still in their Sunday best.

They had been alone, just the two of them all day, sitting in the very back of Mr. McAdams’ pizza parlor, smiling around their shared pizza and sodas, holding hands under the table until Katie McAdams, who waitressed on the weekends for money to buy herself a car, came to check on them, refilling their drinks and making a joke or two. 

“She’s sweet on you,” Louis had told Harry after she left. Harry just rolled his eyes.

“Well, that’s too bad,” he smiled, “because I’m very much taken, and very much in love.”

Louis glowed under the statement; Harry usually didn’t even acknowledge their relationship if they were out in public – and yes, even Mr. McAdams’ pizza parlor, deserted on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was holed up in their house with their families eating chicken and rolls, counted as ‘public’. “Yeah?” He asked, feeling ridiculously breathless. Harry nodded, and Louis smiled around his straw before he laughed to himself and asked, “And who might you be in love with, then, Mr. Styles?”

And that’s where he went wrong. Louis realized the distinction between saying he was in love, and saying he who it was with. If anyone overheard and asked Harry who he was in love with, he could laugh cheekily and say it was Frankie Sandford who’d stolen his heart, and get the fond smack upside the head from his mum for having such a provocative crush like her. 

But if anyone overheard Harry say he was in love with Louis, there would be no going back, because Louis was a boy. And that was wrong.  
Well, Louis didn’t think that, and neither did the rest of his family. Or Harry, really, either. But Harry’s family thought that, and the rest of the town, basically, thought that, and that was enough for Harry to be too scared to say it.

So Louis _understood_ when Harry looked at him beseechingly and answered, “Frankie Sandford.” He did. But that didn’t mean he agreed.

So Louis stood and pulled out his wallet, digging for a few bills and dropping them on the table and walked out, ignoring Harry calling for him to wait up. 

Harry caught up to Louis, his long legs carrying him faster than Louis’ could, and held out Louis’ jacket. “You left your coat,” he said lamely, chewing on his lip.

“Thanks,” Louis said quietly, taking the coat and putting it on against the chill in the air. He hadn’t really wanted to get away from Harry, just the situation, and he was glad for Harry’s company, despite not being ready to speak to him quite yet.

“You’re welcome,” Harry mumbled, manners ingrained more like an automatic reflex than actual manners.

They walked in silence, Louis in a bit of dejection and a bit of anger – not at Harry, no, not really. Louis was angry that Harry wasn’t brave enough, but he understood. Louis couldn’t imagine losing his parents and sisters just for being who he was. Harry would lose that, and they would disown him and probably kick him out, and Louis’ parents worked hard enough as it was to put food on the table for Louis and his four sisters and themselves, and that was with Louis’ contribution from his job at the stockyard, so there was no way they could afford to take in another growing boy, regardless of how much they loved Harry and supported their relationship.  
No. Louis was angry at many people for Harry’s sake, but Harry wasn’t really one of them.

He was angry at God. And even though Louis didn’t believe that God had really meant to say “you can’t be gay or I won’t love you and if you are you’re going to Hell because you’re a dirty sinner”, he was angry that God had let the disciples write the Bible in such a way that people in this generation would take it that way. Louis was also angry at said disciples for that reason, regardless of how blasphemous that was.

And Louis was angry at his church. Again, blasphemous, but he didn’t really care, because Louis and Harry were good Christians. They knew loads of scriptures and hymns and prayed all the time – at every meal, before bed and after waking up, random times in the day whenever he wanted to thank God for simple little moments, like seeing a young child helping a baby who’d fallen, or seeing a flower peeking up from a random spot like a crack in the sidewalk – and Harry loved God more than he loved anyone else, even Louis and his parents and sister, and he and Louis knew that to have a good, Christian relationship, you had to be in a relationship with God just as much as you were in a relationship with your partner, so that’s what they did. They loved each other and God, and they prayed together and they read the Bible together and they praised God together, genuinely reaping joy from it because they loved God and Jesus and were thankful for being saved. Harry was a _great_ Christian, and so was Louis, but if the church found out that they were gay, they wouldn’t be seen as Christians at all, but filthy sinners.

Louis was angry at Harry’s family, because even though they loved Harry, it was conditional, and Harry and Louis both knew it. Louis was lucky. His parents found out he was gay, and still loved him, because they loved him for no reason and every reason, they way parents _should_ love their children. While Jay was perfectly fine with it and didn’t think there was anything wrong with homosexuality, Louis’ dad, Mark, didn’t agree with it or understand it, but he was accepting. When they found out Louis and Harry were together, they both accepted it and embraced Harry into their family. Nothing changed, actually, because Harry had been family for years, as Louis’ best mate, and when it developed into more, it only made them love Harry more. But Harry’s family wasn’t like that, and it made Louis angry.

“Louis,” Harry had said desperately after they were over halfway back to Harry’s house. “Please stop being mad at me. I’m _sorry_.”

Louis stopped short and turned to look at Harry, his features softening as he saw how upset his boyfriend looked in that moment. “I’m not mad at you,” Louis found himself saying, “just…I hate this, is all.” He kicked at a rock near his shoe, nearly swearing to himself when he saw how it scuffed his shoe. “I just wish we could be in a place where you could say it. That’s all.”

Harry’s eyes had gone sad and he looked around quickly before dragging Louis behind a warehouse that had been halfway destroyed in a fire last summer, during the drought. Harry pulled Louis close to him by the lapels of his coat and kissed him fervently, fisting his coat like he’d die before he let go. 

Louis’ hands cupped Harry’s face as he poured all the love he could into the kiss, not knowing when he’d be able to kiss him again. There was something exhilarating to kissing Harry somewhere that wasn’t his closet or behind Harry’s bed, where they were hidden and could spring apart if the doorknob turned.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Harry whispered desperately, ending the kiss and pressing his forehead against Louis’, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “You have to believe me by now, I love you so much, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis kissed Harry once more, just a quick peck on the lips, and answered, “I do, I know. I love you, too.” Harry’s head slipped to the side to bury in Louis’ neck, and Louis tugged his body closer, hugging him protectively, wishing he could shield Harry from all the awful nasty in their world.

“C’mon,” he said eventually, glancing at his watch, “or we’ll be late to yours for dinner.” He pulled away reluctantly and started walking down the alleyway. They walked quietly, not talking much other than the odd random thought and its accompanying little chit-chat, and Louis was starting to be able to push all his emotions back. Harry had grinned at him and made a kissy face, and Louis looked at his feet and tried to hold Harry’s hand.

Harry looked genuinely sorry he’d acted so paranoid, despite the fact that it was his default mode. Louis sighed and nodded, accepting it. He looked up, though, when Harry squeezed his hand insistently.

“I mean it. I’m sorry.”

Louis smiled a little smile at him, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s alright,” he promised, squeezing Harry’s hand. “I know how hard it is for you.”

-

At dinner, Louis and Harry sat next to each other, as usual, across from Gemma, Harry’s sister, with Anne and Des, Harry’s mum and dad, at the heads of the table. They chit-chatted quietly amongst themselves after a prayer from Des. The prayer was Louis’ favorite part of eating dinner with the Styles family, because he got to hold Harry’s hand in front of his whole family, on top of the table where they could all see it, if they opened their eyes during prayer. Sure, Louis was also holding Des’ hand, and Harry was also holding Anne’s hand, but Louis didn’t focus on that.

“So, Harry, I heard Katie McAdams has a crush on you,” Gemma teased after a lull in conversation.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She doesn’t,” he said, even though everyone in town knew it was true.

“She _does_!” Gemma insisted. “Even told Abigail Woods, and Abigail told me. I told Abigail to tell Katie to ask you out, because I knew you’d never do it yourself.” Louis choked on his steak a little bit, coughing, and Harry passed him his glass of water, looking concerned alongside the rest of the Styles family. Louis waved them off, taking gulps of his water and coughing.

Harry turned to Gemma, who was looking excited, and said awkwardly, “That was nice, Gem, but I’m not really interested in her that way. I – I’m kind of focusing on school,” he lied.

Gemma scoffed. “ _Everyone_ is interested in _Katie McAdams_ ,” she insisted. “She’s the prettiest girl in town! Prettier than every other girl in the next three counties!”

“Gem, you’re pretty, too,” Harry said sincerely, clearly concerned that Gemma was selling herself short. “Beautiful, even. I dunno why –”

“Oh, Harry, this isn’t about me,” Gemma said impatiently, though her irritated wave of dismissal was fond. “This is about you. You’re nearly seventeen and you haven’t been on a date!”

Louis promptly shoved a massive bite of his steak into his mouth, willing himself to stay quiet. Harry had been on loads of dates. They were just secret. And gay.

“Alright, Gemma, leave Harry alone,” Anne chided. “If he wants to focus on his studies, you could take a leaf out of his book,” she added, referencing Gemma’s booming social life and not-quite-as-booming GPA.

Gemma quieted at that and the meal was nearly silent until Gemma blurted, “So Louis, you and Bethany Covington, yeah?”

Louis coughed into his water and his eyes widened. “ _What_?” he asked incredulously.

“You and Bethany are dating, right?”

“I – what? No,” Louis said. “Why on _earth_ would I be dating _Bethany Covington_?!” He asked.

Gemma rolled her eyes; Bethany Covington was the fastest girl in town. Everyone knew she wasn’t a virgin, and she necked on the first date with pretty much everybody. And she never turned down a date invitation, so long as the boy was cute and older. “ _Please_ ,” Gemma said, teasingly, “the only girl boys want to date more than Katie McAdams is Bethany Covington; only makes sense _Louis Tomlinson_ laid claim, finally!”

Louis’ eyes were wide as saucers, and he refused to even look Harry’s direction for fear of what he’d be looking like. “I – no, I don’t even really talk to her,” Louis said truthfully. “And I _certainly_ wouldn’t bring her home to meet my parents and sisters,” he added. He knew it was unchristian to judge, and he tried not to judge people like Bethany Covington. It wasn’t Louis’ business what she did in the bedroom with boys, frankly, but he wouldn’t bring her home and let her influence his sisters.

Gemma snorted and Des cleared his throat, clearly disapproving of the conversation topic. Gemma quieted again, eating dinner in silence, and Louis chanced a look at Harry.

Harry’s jaw was locked tight, and he was grinding his teeth so hard Louis could actually hear it, and his fork was clenched tightly in his fist. “May I be excused?” He asked tersely, not looking up from his lap.

“Harry, darling, are you alright?” Anne asked concernedly, patting his thigh.

“Not feeling well,” Harry mumbled. “May I be excused?”

“…Of course, dear,” Anne said uneasily, and Harry threw his napkin from his lap onto the tabletop and left the dining room.

Louis waited a few minutes before excusing himself as well, muttering that he was going to check on Harry. Anne and Des both nodded, and Louis hurried up the stairs of Harry’s fancy house to his room. “Harry?” Louis asked, knocking merely out of polite habit at home than necessity. He opened the door when he heard no response, and peeked around the door. His heart clenched and he hurried to Harry’s bed, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“Harry, Harry,” Louis cooed at his boyfriend, who was lying on his bed in tears. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He pulled Harry into a sitting position and wiped tears from his face, hands cupping his cheeks.

Harry looked up through red-rimmed eyes, irises bright green from the crying. “I don’t want them to think you’re – dating _Bethany Covington_ ,” he spat viciously, tears welling up at the thought. “I want them to – I wish I could tell them,” he added miserably, looking at his lap. 

Louis felt his heart squeeze, and said, “We will, one day. One day, they’ll learn, yeah, and they’ll change their minds about it, and we can be us and they’ll be okay. We’re not gonna hide this ‘til we’re dead,” he added, trying to ease the tension up.

Harry just sniffed. “If we do, promise you’ll tell my mum at my funeral?” he asked bitterly.

Louis laughed once, short, and nodded. “I promise,” he vowed. Harry smiled a watery smile and leaned in, hands tucking into Louis’ hair to cradle his head. And Harry kissed him, right there on his bed. Louis was so shocked he couldn’t even respond, and then – 

“Harry, are you al… _OH MY GOSH_!” Anne shrieked when she looked around the opening door and saw Louis and Harry springing apart at the sound of her voice, wiping their mouths hastily, eyes wide as saucers. 

She looked enraged, and Harry stood up instantly, hands out in a pleading-slash-placating gesture, starting in with, “Mum, it’s not –” but Anne shrieked over him.

“ _Des_! Bring the Bible!” She pushed Harry out of the way and took one step towards Louis, who had stood up and was just standing rather uselessly, panic overwhelming him. Anne stopped a few feet away, as if he had a contagious disease, and screamed at him, “Get out of my house!”

When Harry tried to protest, Anne turned on him, shrieking at him to hush and kneel down to pray. Harry glanced at Louis, helpless and with tears of terror in his eyes, but kneeled down and clasped hands, squeezing his eyes shut and reciting the Lord’s Prayer through sobs now escaping.

“ _Get out_!” Anne yelled again at Louis, who looked at Harry. Harry’s eyes opened and he didn’t seem to know what to do, so Louis tried for his best ‘calming’ face and rushed out, knowing he would only make things worse for Harry if he stayed.

-

Harry didn’t call him or text him that night. Louis waited up, never sleeping for fear he’d miss anything, but his phone never lit up, and there was never a tap at his window. Louis didn’t cry, though. He couldn’t settle enough to cry. When he got home, he sat at the kitchen table with his hands in his hair as he stared at the tea his mum made him upon seeing his stricken expression. He told his parents what had happened, and they both agreed that Louis had done best by leaving when he did. They tried to assure him that everything would work out and would be okay.

-

Harry wasn’t in school the next day, either. 

That night, in the blackness, Louis snuck over to Harry’s house, hiding in the bushes and trying desperately for a glimpse of Harry, to see how he was doing, but he didn’t catch sight of him. He saw through the curtains when Harry turned his light off, but nothing else. At least, Louis reasoned, they hadn’t kicked him out.

-

Harry didn’t come to school for the rest of the week. Loads of people asked Louis where he was, and Louis said Harry was at home, sick with an unexpected stomach virus. 

The next Sunday, Louis watched as Harry filed into church behind Anne and Des, Gemma behind him with fingers pressing into his back. Louis was surprised; the gesture was clearly one of comfort, and he hadn’t expected Gemma to be okay with her little brother being a sinning homosexual.

The sermon _had_ to have been set up by Anne. Pastor Jones preached a sermon on homosexuality and its sins against God and Christianity and society. Louis glanced over to where Harry was sitting, back going rigid every time his mother hissed at him to sit up straight, jaw clenched and looking down. Louis nearly jumped up and ran to him when he saw tears running down Harry’s face and his shoulders shake with barely-suppressed sobs, silently wiping his nose and pressing his long fingers into his tear ducts like he could close them off. Gemma pressed her fingers against his thigh in comfort, where their parents couldn’t see, and caught Louis’ eye once. 

Louis didn’t flinch from her gaze, which was a mix of intense curiosity and sadness.

Harry didn’t look at Louis once, and Jay gripped Louis’ hand in her own for comfort, jaw clenched at the sermon and at the situation.

After the sermon, everyone filed out, and Louis noticed his mum’s absence. He looked around and felt the blood drain from his face when he saw his mum speaking with Anne in a corner in a hissing, angry-looking conversation. Louis walked swiftly over to her, and Anne saw him over Jay’s shoulder. Her lip curled up in disgust and she raised her voice just loud enough for Louis to hear. “…And keep your gay son away from Harry, please. He’s young and impressionable, and _clearly_ , Louis is not a good influence on him, teaching him Satan’s ways.” 

Jay whipped around and saw where Louis had frozen, and she rushed to his side, cradling him. He didn’t cry, though. He felt himself going numb. He turned around in his mum’s embrace, searching for a head of curls and bright green eyes. He didn’t find any.

-

The next day, Harry was at school. He seemed to catch on to the rumor that he was just sick, and let that be his excuse, not speaking much and only saying he was still recovering from it.

Louis tried blatantly walking up to him, but Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head frantically, making Louis freeze. 

The rest of the day was miserable. Louis tried various times to get Harry’s attention, but Harry ignored him, each time looking more and more miserable than the last.

-

The next day, Louis got to school early and slipped a note in the vents of Harry’s locker.

_H_   
_D-hall toilets 6th prd. Nobody saw._   
_L_

Louis spend the day antsy, not attempting to get Harry’s attention, but after fifth period, Louis went straight to the toilets in D hallway, slipping in and waiting. He waited for an hour, and just as he was about to give up, Harry came in.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis said in relief, rushing to him, but Harry shook his head, not looking up at him. Louis hesitated, staying where he was, a few feet away from Harry. “How are you? Are you okay?”

Harry hesitated a moment, and then shook his head, breath hitching.

“What’s happening?” Louis asked urgently, heart constricting. “They’re not – they’re not _hitting you_ –”

Louis relaxed slightly when Harry shook his head quickly. “I’m – not allowed to talk,” Harry explained, looking up at the wall behind Louis with a trembling lip, his throat scratchy. “Unless I’m praying. And they don’t – they don’t talk to me, now.” He bit his lip as more tears came. “Gemma’s not allowed to talk to me.” Louis’ vision clouded with anger slightly, only evaporated by concern when Harry sobbed. “I’m only allowed to eat leftovers, after everyone else has eaten, and I can’t – I’m not allowed to sit in chairs. Furniture. They took my bed…and all my stuff. Said I can have it back when I’m a God-fearing Christian, and not a – not a – a f-faggot,” he said, sobbing on the last word. He sank down against the wall, covering his face as he cried. 

Louis moved to lock the bathroom door and crouched down in front of Harry, far away enough that Harry didn’t tell him to move, but close enough to touch. “I’m so sorry,” Louis said, feeling tears of his own start to burn at his eyes.

But Harry shook his head. “’S not your fault,” he said, inhaling an almighty sniff and wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands. “I’m just – I just have to – to pray it out of me, they said. And then I can – then they’ll love me again.”

Louis didn’t answer, fear settling in his stomach as he watched Harry bite his lip as another onslaught of tears came.

“We – I’m…breaking up with you,” Harry said in a shaky voice that was thick with emotions.

“…What?” Louis asked, not understanding.

Harry looked up at him, his lip trembling and his eyes bright from the tears. “I’m sorry, Lou,” he said, his voice breaking, “but I – it’s _wrong_ , and I’m – I’ll lose my family even more if I stay gay.”

“Harry, you can’t –” Louis tried to argue, vision blurring a little.

“Please.” Harry wasn’t looking at him again.

Louis swallowed hard, letting out only one tiny sob. He reached forward and gripped Harry’s chin, leaning forward and kissing him one last time. “Alright,” he said, voice broken. “Alright. Then we’re broken up. …But, Harry…I will _always_ love you. I don’t care what anyone says. Not _even_ God.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he scrambled up, shaking his head and touching his mouth as if Louis had burned his lips instead of kissed them. He backed away to the door and unlocked it, still watching Louis, and then turned and ran out. Louis stood in the middle of the toilets in D-hallway, staring at the door as it swung shut again. The bell rang eventually, ending the school day, and Louis walked out numbly, not even going back to his locker to get his books.

Louis walked home, ignoring the bus and the people on it who called his name as he passed it. Louis just wanted to be alone.

Until he got home, and then he curled up on the over-sized chair with his mum and tea and tissues. Louis let himself cry, and he told his mum what had happened, sobs wracking his body as his sisters played out back before dinner. 

Jay hugged Louis close and let tears of her own leak out as she listened and watched her son’s pain. By the time Louis’ dad got home, Louis was already asleep in his bed, having nightmares of things and people chasing him, trying to hurt him, and he was calling out to Harry, who looked at him with glassy, red-rimmed eyes and apologized and told him to pray the gay from him. 

-

Louis did what Harry asked. He didn’t make his life harder for him. Louis knew Harry wouldn’t be able to ‘pray the gay out’, because he’d tried it when he was fourteen and discovered he was gay. Louis knew Harry would be having a hard enough time without him making it worse, so he didn’t. 

Louis walked by Harry and didn’t even make eye contact, though he usually had to swallow hard past a little lump. When people asked why they weren’t friends anymore Louis just shrugged and changed the topic. At church, Louis didn’t ask to hang out with Harry, but instead, he went home with his family and had chicken and rolls as a Sunday lunch. Louis took up extra hours at the stockyard, now that he didn’t have anyone to cut hours _for_ , so he made more money _and_ was able to buy the twins real birthday presents and help with the groceries and bills. Louis started taking melatonin deposits so he didn’t have nightmares. 

Louis’ grades shot up marvelously, not that they were ever low in the first place, and his football tricks got even better. He did all his chores and worked his arse off and went to school, where he didn’t acknowledge Harry Styles’ existence.

Louis was miserable.

And even worse, was that it looked like Harry was doing even worse than Louis.

-

It shocked everyone. He was one of the last people to hear the news, and he heard it at school. There were whispers everywhere, people crying and people looking horrified and terrified, and the people who made eye contact with Louis looked sympathetic.

Everyone was shocked, nobody would have guessed it. 

Harry Styles, the golden boy, killed himself. His note said one sentence. Three words. _I can’t change._

-

Louis went to the funeral. Lots of people did, but Louis went to the funeral an hour early. Louis got a front row seat, in the pew off to the right of the pew where Harry’s family sat. Gemma cried hysterically, but Harry’s parents both had silent, stony tears running down their faces.

The pastor prayed over Harry’s casket and said a bunch of scriptures about young souls and tragedies and depression. It was a beautiful speech. 

Louis hated it.

The pastor invited people up to say things about Harry. Anne and Des refused to, and Gemma was crying too much to speak. People from church came and spoke, people from school came and spoke, and people from the little bakery Harry worked at during the summer came up and spoke.

Louis stood up and walked to the podium. Anne and Des looked furious and disgusted, but didn’t want to make a scene. Gemma sobbed on, looking up at Louis.

Louis looked down at the casket and the framed picture on the stand next to it, showing Harry’s junior year photo, smiling widely, dimples and green eyes and curls. Gay.

Louis took a deep breath and looked around the church before he spoke. “…Harry and I have been best friends since we were in little league football together,” he began, swallowing past a lump in his throat. “We spent all of our time together – barely even made other friends. We didn’t need them; we had each other. Harry was…a happy person, always. Always had a smile. Loved life. Loved his family more than anything, except maybe God Himself.” Louis deliberately glared at Harry’s parents, who remained looking furious. Gemma sniffed and looked at Louis through her tears, watching. Waiting. 

“About fourteen months ago, Harry and I started dating,” Louis said bluntly. There was a collective gasp, not loud, but definitely there. Anne clenched her jaw. Des remained expressionless. Gemma’s eyes widened. “We used to fantasize, after we read our dedication every night, or did our homework, or shared dinner together, or waited for the bus home. We used to dream about what it would be like to be accepted. To be known as _gay_ Christians.” Everyone in the room held their breath, shocked that anyone would say something so blasphemous not only in a church, but at a funeral. Louis kept on, for Harry’s sake. “And I’m lucky. My family knows I’m gay; have for a while. Harry’s family didn’t know. They didn’t know that Harry was gay, and dating me. He _dreamed_ about coming out to his family, one day, and being accepted the way I was, being loved unconditionally by his family, the way they loved him. I told him that one day, we’d be able to come out, announce our relationship to the world, and be welcomed with open, loving arms, because we were good people and he was a great person who deserved it. I told him that we wouldn’t die with a secret.” Louis swallowed tightly as his eyes started to burn. Everyone watched him.

Louis looked deliberately at Anne as he delivered his next words. “Harry once made me promise that if he died before he could tell everyone, that I would do it for him. Harry and I were in _love_.” Anne flinched, finally. Gemma gasped and covered her mouth. Louis continued. “I love Harry with every bit of my heart, and Harry loved me just as fiercely.

“And I watched him make himself _miserable_ because he wasn’t accepted. Harry was a _good person_ , and he _died_ unaccepted, with a _secret_ , like it was _dirty_. And yet you all believe this is something God would have wanted?” Louis shook his head in disbelief. “No. God is _good_. God is light and love and compassion and understanding. God is not suicide, or abuse, or victimizing, or shaming. God is _love_ , and Harry had so much of it for everyone, even the people who treated him the worst.” Louis swallowed and looked around the room one last time before he finished. “I just wanted you all to know that. Harry wanted you to know. …Thanks.”

Louis stumbled down the steps and pressed a kiss to the casket, letting his hands linger on it as he walked away from it, head high and eyes blurry.

He walked out of the church and saw the storm clouds, but as he walked out from under the shading awning, the sun shone directly on him, warming him despite the nastiness surrounding him. Louis closed his eyes and let the tears fall, basking in the warmth as he cried. “Hello, Harry,” he murmured to the sunlight shining down on him. “I love you.”


End file.
